


for all of the days that we spent carried away from home

by oceanvirus



Category: Brooklyn Nine-Nine (TV)
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, F/M, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, SO MUCH FLUFF, heavy lean towards the comfort side of that, post-S3
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-19
Updated: 2017-04-19
Packaged: 2018-10-20 21:53:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,117
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10671498
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oceanvirus/pseuds/oceanvirus
Summary: There were still nights that he woke in panic to make sure Amy was really there by his side and he wasn't back in the blistering, sweaty Florida heat. There were still days he'd come home to Amy sitting on his living room floor, re-reading the letter she was supposed to send him at the 6 month mark of his absence and crying her eyes out. There were still moments where they had to stop whatever they were doing to hold each other as close as possible and relish in the fact that they weren't dreaming, that he was really back in Brooklyn, on her couch, in her arms – that he was home.And when Jake heard her call fromtheirroom that he has too many plaid shirts and that none of his socks match, he knew that’s exactly where he was.Home.





	for all of the days that we spent carried away from home

**Author's Note:**

> this is, without question, The Fluffiest Piece Of Garbage i have ever created
> 
> title is from pressure by paramore!
> 
> enjoy

To say that Jake was excited to move in with Amy was an understatement. 

It had been a long time coming – they made their plan almost a year ago, and now that it was finally being brought to fruition, Jake was practically vibrating with poorly-contained enthusiasm. 

“Where do you want the– Jake, why do you have _twelve_ Die Hard posters?”

“Because Die Hard is the best. We’ve been over this so many times.” He explained, a grin undercutting the exasperated tone of his voice.

Amy just sighed, shaking her head with a smile. “Well, I don’t have the wall space for twelve posters. You’re gonna have to downsize."

Jake stopped in his tracks, looking up at his girlfriend in horror. “And get rid of these works of art? Ames, that’s like me asking you to cut down your collection of antique teapots.”

“You already did ask me to do that, and I complied.” Amy shot back, amused. “Besides, half of these posters are basically the same. Actually, I’m pretty sure you have three of this one.” She added, holding up a framed poster with a graphic of Bruce Willis holding a gun.

He pouted slightly. “Fine. I’ll throw away two of them.”

“I barely have enough room for my own pictures, let alone ten near-identical posters. You get to keep three.”

“Five.”

“Three.”

“Four?” A pleading tone took on his words.

“ _Three_ ,” Amy persisted, drawing a long sigh from Jake.

“Fine. Just let me have a minute alone before I send them to their doom.” He lamented. Amy just laughed quietly and stole forward to plant a soft, too-short kiss on his lips before retreating to her ( _their_ , his mind corrected) bedroom to unpack his clothes. 

It almost felt surreal to him at this point. He was moving in with his girlfriend who gave up half of her antique teapot collection for him and negotiated over how many Die Hard posters he could keep with him and kissed him whenever she felt like it and was no longer 1,247 miles away, fruitlessly working to bring him home.

The whole Figgis ordeal was one of the biggest obstacles they had ever dealt with, and now that they had finally overcome it, Jake felt invincible. At least, most of the time he felt invincible. There were still nights that he woke in panic to make sure Amy was really there by his side and he wasn't back in the blistering, sweaty Florida heat. There were still days he'd come home to Amy sitting on his living room floor, re-reading the letter she was supposed to send him at the 6 month mark of his absence and crying her eyes out. There were still times he watched her meander around his kitchen wrapped in one of his hoodies with an achingly warm, comforting feeling in his chest. There were still moments where they had to stop whatever they were doing to hold each other as close as possible and relish in the fact that they weren't dreaming, that he was really back in Brooklyn, on her couch, in her arms – that he was home. 

And when Jake heard her call from _their_ room that he has too many plaid shirts and that none of his socks match, he knew that’s exactly where he was. 

Home.

***

“Hey, Jake?”

Jake’s head popped into the door frame. “Hm?”

Amy stood in the bedroom, looking into a box with a puzzled expression. “What are these?”

He closed the distance in between them quickly, peering into the box to see the objects in question. A grin split his face when he saw what she was looking at.

“They’re those glow-in-the-dark stars that you stick to your ceiling. Didn’t you have some in your room when you were a kid?” He asked, flopping down onto the bed.

“Yeah, when I was a kid. But, you know, not in my thirties.” She said, an amused glint in her eyes as she sat next to him.

Jake just scoffed. “You’re never too old to have glow-in-the-dark stars on your ceiling.”

“If you were anyone else but you, I would disagree. But, since you’re a twelve-year-old at heart and it's annoyingly endearing, I’ll go get my astronomy textbook.” She stated, beaming proudly.

“Why do you have an astronomy textbook, and why do we need it now?” Jake questioned, looking at Amy with one eyebrow raised quizzically. 

“To put up the stars, duh.” She stated simply. “Don’t you want them to be accurately placed?”

Jake stared at her for a solid ten seconds before erupting into a fit of laughter.

“What?” Amy demanded, frowning.

“Nothing,” he wheezed. “You are just _so_ consistent.”

The crease between Amy’s brows only deepened. “I don’t get it. Why is that funny?”

Settling down, Jake’s face glowed with affection. “If you were anyone else but you, I would make fun of you for wanting an astronomically accurate display of children’s glow-in-the-dark stars.” He paraphrased her earlier words, smiling fondly at her. “But, since you’re the cutest nerd in the galaxy, let’s go get your astronomy textbook.” He finished, standing and holding his hand out to her.

A smile broke across her face and she took his hand, lacing their fingers together and tugging him towards her reading nook.

***

Several hours later, the pair lay on their backs with their hands clasped together, admiring their masterpiece. It had been somewhat of a drawn-out process, with Amy’s perfectionism and Jake’s inclement childishness giving way to a few minor disagreements.

>   
>  _“No, babe, it’s 1.4 inches too far to the left.”_
> 
> _“Oh, my god.”_
> 
> _“Do you want this recreation of Ursa Major to look half-decent or not?”_
> 
> _“I thought we were making the Big Dipper.”_
> 
> _“…Ursa Major IS the Big Dipper, Jake.”_  
> 

But now, their work was completed. Ursa Major and Ursa Minor were main focus of the piece, with a few smaller clusters and stray stars surrounding them. They'd even gone so far as to make a trip to the craft store for glow-in-the-dark paint to add little flickers and comets here and there. 

“Hey, Amy?”

“Yeah?” She turned her head to look at him. His heart skipped a beat when their eyes met, and the corner of his mouth tugged up in the soft half-smile he had reserved for her viewing only.

“Love you.” 

She returned his smile, flicking his cheek softly. “Love you too, weirdo.”

He held her gaze for a moment longer before closing his eyes, and the word echoed in his mind over and over, resounding with his entire body until he was whispering it over and over again like a silent prayer and an expression of gratitude rolled into one.

_Home._

**Author's Note:**

> a few Fun Facts™: 
> 
> fact the first: the entire reason this was written is because i couldn't sleep the other day and zoned out on the glow-in-the-dark stars on MY ceiling and i just thought. "i bet jake has glow-in-the-dark ceiling stars" 
> 
> fact the second: i chose ursa major & ursa minor for their ceiling constellations bc you can see the big dipper right over my house from the driveway on clear nights and everytime i come home from a night shift and it's not too cloudy, i stop in my tracks and look at it for a solid ten minutes standing in the driveway like an idiot. my neighbors think i'm weird.
> 
> fact the third: the title for this fic is from an old ass paramore song that i haven't listened to probably since 2009 but it came on shuffle the other day and i was listening to the lyrics and i was just like. there is no way jacob peralta didn't ghostwrite this song about his time in florida. seriously google the lyrics it's scarily accurate
> 
> thanks 4 reading and i hope ur having a Cool and Good Day


End file.
